Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table
by Moonprincess92
Summary: Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :WeasleyFRIENDship includes RHr HG and others postDH:
1. Ron feels Insomniac

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own any of the Weasley's, coffee, tea, hot chocolate, or any other hot drink you can think of.

* * *

Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :Oneshot includes RHr HG and others WeasleyFRIENDship postDH:

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1

_Ron feels Insomniac_

Ron didn't know how the others could sleep.

He lay in bed with his eyes shut tightly closed, yet he couldn't make himself drift off. He supposed that he could always shoot a Stunning spell at himself, but felt that would defeat the purpose of be able to fall asleep.

He couldn't help it. As he turned over again and again, he noticed that Harry was sleeping peacefully on his camp-bed in Ron's room (for no one had the heart to give Fred and George's old room back to him like two summer's ago). Why could _Harry_ sleep? He'd been through so much over the past year, yet he still could manage to stand the dreams that came to him?

It was bizarre.

Ron sat up, feeling disgruntled at himself. He wanted more than anything right now, to just fall asleep and to wake up whenever he liked. He felt like he hadn't slept at all since that first night after the war. He probably hadn't. Even though he thought he might soon collapse due to exhaustion, Ron knew it wouldn't happen.

Figuring he might as well do something productive, Ron slipped out of his bed and made his way down to the kitchen of the Burrow. He flicked his wand (which he always carried with him everywhere), and milk, sugar, tea bags and the kettle all zoomed over from various places and landed on the table. He proceeded to make himself a cup of tea, wishing it hadn't come to this.

Unfortunately, it had: he was making a cup of tea for himself at 2 o'clock in the morning.

The house was silent as Ron sipped his tea. That was rare these days, Ron mused. The night at the Burrow was almost always nearly as loud as the day, with bugs chirping outside, various owls swooping in and out of windows and lately, the odd scream of terror from a nightmare.

While he tried not to think about the latter too much, Ron simply couldn't ignore it. He'd been lying awake at night for a while now and nearly every night, someone in the house would scream from a nightmare. Mostly, it had been his little sister and it pained him that he'd given up running in, because there was nothing he could do to stop the nightmares. She'd refused to tell him anything, anyway.

Ron yawned and felt annoyed - why could he feel tired, but not fall asleep? It seemed cruel, somehow and with a pang, Ron remembered that the last time he'd completely slept through a night, was a few nights after the battle, back at Hogwarts. It was the end of the day, and to avoid thinking about anything to do with Fred, he'd been cleaning and sorting the rubble and destruction from the battle. He had been exhausted, yet knew he wouldn't dare close his eyes.

Until Hermione found him in the Gryffindor common room. They had fallen sleep together and had woken up to the sun rising on their faces.

Ron only stared into the bottom on his cup, watching the remains of his tea swirl around. He knew it would be impossible to stay with Hermione every night - his mother would never allow it.

It wasn't fair, he thought gloomily as he banished all the tea-making things back to their places. This shouldn't have happened to their family, they didn't deserve it. They'd been nothing but strong, fighting in the war. If this was supposed to be fate, then it was playing a cruel game.

Ron got up with the intention of building an exploding-snap castle until dawn. As he reached the stairs, however, he panicked to realise that someone else was coming down.

He hid in the shadows of the kitchen and saw Percy edge into the room. His glasses were on wonky and he looked like one shock would send him over the edge.

_Hopefully I'm not the only one who's not sleeping_, Ron thought as he snuck upstairs while Percy summoned the recently banished tea-things. _It would be fairer that way_.

* * *

A/N: So this has been a long time coming. I've been trying to write this story for months, but it never came out right. Finally, _finally_ i've finished it. It was origonally a oneshot, but i eventually decided to split it into parts, considering it got over 9000 words long and that's a bit too long for a simple oneshot.

So Ron is first up. This story will be short, about eight chapters-ish long and will cover various meetings at the kitchen table following Freds' death. It was extremely different to go all angsty after GIR World, but it was fun.

I'm so sorry for practically disappearing off the face of the earth for more or less two months. My only excuse is that life's a bitch and i haven't been able to write well, blah, blah, blah ... i could bore you all with the details, but let's not.

I really hope you liked this, and know there's more to come!

Reviews are honestly always appreciated.

Until Next time-

-Moon. : D


	2. Bill and Charlie Feel Guilty and Pained

**DISCLAIMER: **Don't own Bill, Charlie or hot drinks.

* * *

Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :Oneshot includes RHr HG and others WeasleyFRIENDship postDH:

* * *

---

2

_Bill and Charlie Feel Guilty and Pained _

Every time Bill considered moving back home, he felt guilty.

He even felt guilty that he now considered Shell Cottage home, rather than the Burrow. But when Mrs Weasley had asked him and Fleur if they could _possibly move back home for a while? Just so things can … get straightened out?_ There was no way he could say no.

The guilt had been eating at him ever since the war ended. Not just for wanting to go back home, but for constantly wanting to be left alone, for not talking to anyone and for not wanting to think about Fred …

The truth was, it hurt. And he didn't think he could handle that.

This was why he found himself sitting at the Burrow kitchen table at about two in the morning, half-heartedly sipping at a cup of tea. The guilt had been plaguing him for the past week, and he found that he couldn't sleep. The drink didn't really help.

Bill sighed to himself. He was the oldest of seven - or rather six, now. He tried not to think about that part. He _knew_ he didn't protect his family like he should've done this past year - while Percy was not even speaking to the family, Fred and George running an illegal radio show and Ron gallivanting off Merlin knows where with Harry and Hermione, he, Bill, was sitting at home with his wife, playing secret keeper.

And how had that worked out? Fred gone.

He had failed his job as the protecting older brother and quite frankly, he wouldn't have been surprised if the rest of the family hated him.

"I thought Ron was the insomniac?"

Bill's head snapped up to see Charlie leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. While his tone was teasing, he looked haggard.

"Not funny." Bill muttered. Charlie sighed and sat down. While Bill had always felt closer to Charlie than any of his brothers, right now he didn't feel close to anyone, except perhaps Fleur.

Though even her, he felt he couldn't completely relate to. It pained him to realise that.

"Sorry, mate," Charlie said quietly, sitting down at the table. "Ginny was … she was screaming again. Woke me up."

Bill nodded. It was all he had to do - no one had been a stranger to the nightly screams from Ginny's room.

"D'you feel guilty, Charlie?" Bill asked after a long moment of silence, during which his brother made himself a cup of tea.

Charlie's hands paused as he mixed his tea and sugar together with the end of his wand. "… guilty?"

Bill regretted saying it almost as soon as the words left his mouth. He couldn't let it show that he wasn't handling this. He couldn't. Now, more than ever, his siblings needed someone to hold onto, someone they could see who was strong. He couldn't afford to show how horribly responsible he felt for letting his family down - because if he broke down, where did that leave everyone else?

But something about Charlie's face - the forced smile, trying to unsuccessfully cover up his haunted eyes - made Bill tell Charlie everything he couldn't say to everyone else.

"Yeah, guilty," He muttered. "For … not helping. For not being able to do anything. It was my job to protect this family and I … I failed, Charlie. And now I don't want anything to do with _here_," He gestured around the kitchen. "Because it reminds me too much of Fred … and that _hurts_ …"

Bill didn't meet his eyes, afraid of what he'd see if he did. Charlie didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, when eventually he spoke, his voice had a layer of anger in it.

It made Bill look up.

"You think _you're_ guilty?" Charlie said, sounding more incredulous than mad, but the anger was still there. "By the time I actually _got_ there, he was already _dead_," Charlie's face was unreadable. "All the time, I wonder … if I'd gotten there on time, would he - would be still be alive?"

Charlie's face lost all traces of trying to look fine as he stared at the kitchen table. Bill didn't say anything. "You have no idea how painful it is." Charlie muttered.

Bill shook his head. "Trust me, I _do_ know. Ever since Ginny was born, it was always me who had to protect everyone else. Bill, protect Ginny. Bill, make sure Percy comes out of his room at Hogwarts. Bill, look after Ron. Bill, make sure the twins stay out of trouble …"

Charlie gave a half-hearted smile. "You missed out me in that list."

Bill punched his closest brother on the shoulder. "You know I take care of you. I didn't do that for Fred."

"You also forgot Fleur," Charlie reasoned. "Don't feel guilty for trying to protect your-" He suddenly cut himself off, both knowing how horrible it would've sounded to say what he was about to say. Don't feel guilty for trying to protect your _wife_, don't feel guilty for trying to protect _yourself_ – it didn't matter which Charlie intended to say, because both meant Bill had chosen _someone else_ over his own sibling, no matter how much Fleur meant to him. He didn't think he'd ever stop feeling guilty for that.

"It wasn't your fault either," Bill said eventually, refusing to meet Charlie's eye. "You couldn't help it. You were in Romania and got the message late."

"And if I'd been here, it could've changed everythi-"

"No, seriously Charlie, just shut up," Bill said, cutting over him. He didn't want his brother feeling just as bad as him. "It was the bloody death eater who destroyed that wall. _That's_ whose fault it was."

"I know." Charlie murmured, picking up his drink and draining it. His face was carefully composed, a mask Charlie had perfected over the years. Bill wanted to somehow take away how much pain his younger brother must be in; he didn't deserve any of it. He'd rather take Charlie's pain for himself, if he could.

But he couldn't. So he placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder and didn't say anything.

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. And the guilt still ate at him.

* * *

A/N: And we encounter Bill and Charlie. Unfortunately, horribly depressing. These guys aren't given enough love, seriously.

Next is Ginny!

I hope you liked, remember reviews are always appreciated.

Until next time-

-Moon. : D


	3. Ginny Feels Fear

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Ginny, Ron, or hot drinks.

* * *

Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :Weasley-centric RHr HG and others postDH:

* * *

---

3

_Ginny Feels Fear_

Ginny was sick of the screaming.

Every single night was the same: lie in bed for hours until she fell asleep, suffer through the same reoccurring nightmare and wake up screaming.

Ginny lay, still out of breath, in her bed ripping back the covers as sweat covered her skin. She felt itchy and hot (which wasn't surprising as it was May) but it didn't distract her from the vivid images that constantly played through her head every night and didn't leave when she woke.

She hadn't had a chamber nightmare in years - not since Forth Year at the very least. They only ever came back after something particularly disturbing happened (the incident at the Department of Mysteries and Dumbledore's death were examples enough).

Her brother's death was example enough.

Ginny tensed again as she heard Hermione turn over on the other side of the room, probably woken from Ginny's screams. Ginny had often performed silencing charms over her side of the room, hoping that Hermione wouldn't have to hear her suffering. Once or twice, it seemed as if Hermione had heard anyway but if she did, she didn't get up any more. No one did.

There was no point.

Sighing, Ginny sat up and wiped her forehead on her sheets before getting up and setting off downstairs. She wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

She didn't bother get a jumper as it was too hot that night as it was. She wasn't really surprised that a few windows had been left open in the kitchen.

What did surprise her was that Ron was already sitting at the table.

"You beat me to it, then." She muttered under her breath. Ron still heard her in the silence of the kitchen, however and jumped violently, nearly knocking over his cup of tea.

"What're you doing down here?" He asked her bitterly, poking his wand at the spilt drink, causing it to vanish.

Ginny sat down next to him. "Couldn't sleep. Why're you drinking tea? It's bloody hot as it is."

Her brother shrugged. "It helps me sleep sometimes." He answered. Ginny noted the _sometimes_.

"Oh."

"Want one?"

"Er …" Ginny eyed the teapot Ron had summoned over. "Well, I suppose."

While Ron poured her out a cup of tea and refilled his own, Ginny noticed that his movements were shaky, like he wasn't stable, like he would shatter any second. Her brother had seen Merlin knows what over the past year and he was vulnerable.

He needed to sleep. But Ginny knew that wasn't happening.

She muttered, "Thanks," when he passed her drink, but otherwise they sat in silence. Ginny knew her brother hadn't been sleeping well (or rather not at all), but she hoped like Merlin that he hadn't been down here _every_ night. It seemed _wrong_ somehow, for her to see her brother broken up like this. It was wrong for _all_ of her brothers to be this broken.

But Ginny had always felt closer to Ron. Maybe it was because they were only a year apart, but she loved Ron a lot. And she wanted to stop him from hurting.

She wanted to stop everyone from hurting. But that seemed a little ambitious.

"How's … how's Hermione?" Ginny asked eventually.

Ron glanced at her. "Erm, she's all right."

More silence. "I've seen you with her, Ron," She said quietly. "You both fell asleep in front of the fire once. It was the first time I'd seen you sleep in days."

Ron didn't answer.

"Ron, she helps you sleep, doesn't she?" Ginny asked. Ron only looked at her with an expression she couldn't identify, before he gave a tiny nod.

"I love her, Ginny," He nearly whispered. "And I think she loves me too. But she needs time alone."

Ginny stared at him. "What the hell makes you think that?"

Ron shrugged. "She's been … secluded. She doesn't want to talk. All she does is read."

Ginny sighed. "She's Hermione, of _course_ all she does is read," Ron didn't say anything, so she continued. "That's her way of … erm, handling things," She muttered, not sure how to phrase it. "You're a bigger idiot than I thought if you think Hermione doesn't want you around."

Ron suddenly turned to glare at her. "What am I _supposed_ to think?" He said bitterly to her. "This is my problem, _our_ problem. Hermione has nothing to do with this, she doesn't deserve it! Hermione is brilliant and incredible and smart and kind and an amazing person, whereas I'm … stupid. And broken."

Ginny heard her brother's voice break slightly when he nearly whispered 'broken' and she felt her heart ache for him. "Oh Ron," She muttered, mostly to her cup of un-drunk tea. "Hermione's just as much a part of this as you are. You're practically the same person and she's been a part of this family ever since you became her friend all those years ago. She's hurting just as much as you."

"Funny, that only makes it worse," Ron muttered into his hands as he hid his face. "She doesn't deserve this …" He said again.

Ginny didn't know whether she was helping or just screwing things up even more. But she had to do _something _- she was tired of feeling useless, always succumbing to the fear of falling asleep and living through the nightmares. So she moved closer to her brother and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Ron … I know you don't want to believe that this is just as hard for Hermione," She said quietly. "I know how much you must love her. And I know what it's like to not want to be the cause of someone else's pain," She flinched, remembering the sad looks Harry would always give her whenever she felt her 'I'm ok' façade slipping. "But Ron … Hermione needs you. She needs you a lot, while she may not exactly admit it. She can help you sleep, but she needs help from you too. You're two halves of a whole, Ron. If I can see that, surely you can?"

She wasn't sure if her speech made much sense - it was mostly just a bunch of waffle in her head - but Ron seemed to understand. He eventually looked up at her. He didn't say anything, but only placed his arms around her and held onto her tightly. Ginny wasn't expecting this, but she hugged him back, happy for a moment.

"And after all this," Ron said quietly, not pulling away, but speaking to her shoulder. "You can't take your own advice?"

Ginny tensed immediately and recoiled from her brother's embrace. Ron let her go, but didn't look away. Ginny knew exactly what he was talking about and she knew she couldn't face _that_.

Ron gave an exasperated sigh. "What? If you can sit there and speak a load of bollocks to me about Hermione being my everything, why can't you see that you yourself bloody needs Harry? As odd as it is for me to accept the idea of you two, I know you miss him like hell."

Ginny's insides had frozen. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to face Harry and all that must've happened to him. She knew his story must be horrible – probably one of the worst things she'd ever hear. And she knew she'd hear it eventually. She'd have to. Because she owed that much to Harry.

She wasn't sure why she felt like she owed him, considering it was the bloody bastard who'd left _her_ in the first place. But he had saved the world and that had counted for something.

"Ron, I'm scared." She finally admitted in a whisper. When she didn't elaborate, Ron took her chin made her look up.

"Scared of what?" He asked softly. Ginny shrugged out of his grasp, looking away again.

"Scared of talking. Scared of sleeping. Scared of facing Harry. Scared of the Weasley Clock. Scared of _everything_."

Ron seemed to digest this for a moment. "Why the clock?" He eventually asked.

Ginny shuddered, reminding herself not to glance over at the innocent-looking clock hanging on the kitchen wall. It was now partially hidden by the kitchen curtain and Ginny knew why it was placed in such a spot. Ron's intake of breath made it apparent that he now knew why too.

Fred's hand had fallen off the clock altogether. It now lay uselessly on its side, still showing the cursive writing of _Fred Weasley_, lying at the bottom of the clock. Ginny supposed they all ought to be grateful – the hand could've been pointing at _dead_.

"Oh," Ron's voice seemed to fail him as he let out his breath in a sigh. "I see what you mean."

"Yeah." Ginny muttered. She felt scared at even admitting such a thing.

She glanced up at her older brother. He must've been through the same crap as Harry – in some ways it was easier and in others excruciatingly harder. As much as she missed Fred now and had missed Harry during the past year, she'd also missed Ron just as much. Ron had been her friend for the first eleven years of her life. They'd played together, even if it was because they were forced to. They depended on each other and still did.

"Talk to Hermione," She reiterated her previous point. "And I'll … talk to Harry. Hell, I'm not going to be able to sleep at all …"

"Yeah, Ginny I've noticed that," Ron said quietly, sipping at his drink. Ginny had quite forgotten about hers until then, noticing that hers had gone cold. "You said you were scared of sleeping … and I've heard you at night."

She felt the blood drain from her face. "Y-you hear me?" She managed to choke out.

"It's not exactly hard, what with all the screaming. It's tearing Mum apart."

"_Crap, crap, crap_ …" Ginny muttered, knocking her hands into her forehead with each curse. "Bloody unreliable silencing charms … must be wearing off during the night …" If the charms didn't work, the whole bloody house must be able to hear her! She knew her screams were probably hurting her family, but they were unavoidable – no matter how hard she tried not to fall asleep. It was one of the reasons she found herself at the kitchen table at three in the morning so often.

"Ginny, it's all right," Ron's voice came from above her head, where she had hidden her face in her hands. "We're all scared right now."

"Even Bill?" Ginny murmured through her fingers, not wishing her brother to see her tears that had leaked through.

"Even Bill," Ron said, placing his arms around her. "We'll somehow get through this."

It sounded impossible at the moment and Ginny knew Ron must hardily believe it himself, but she had to hang onto that hope. That maybe one day, she wouldn't feel scared to fall asleep. That she'd be able to think about Fred and laugh at his old jokes. She owed that much to him at least.

But she was still afraid.

A noise came from the stairs and Ron and Ginny both jumped, but a quick glance told them both it was George edging into the kitchen. Ginny's insides filled with dread.

She couldn't face George. She was scared to even look at him. She knew it must make it worse, but she couldn't help it. She simply _couldn't_ look him in the eye.

He looked too much like Fred. And she was terrified because of it.

* * *

A/N: Poor Ginny - everyone has their own issues, but only Ginny has the Chamber Nightmare. I love her relationship with Ron.

Next is George!

Again i realise that this is a horribly depressing story, but it had to be done. I've read a lot of 'Weasley's deal with Fred's death' stories and well, i guess i have to add my own, right?

I hope you liked it, and remember reviews are always appreciated!

Until next time-

-Moon. : D


	4. George Feels Resentment

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own George, Hermione or hot drinks.

* * *

Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :RHr HG and others WeasleyFRIENDship postDH:

* * *

---

4

_George Feels Resentment _

He hated it. He hated it all. The agony, the guilt, the pitying looks, simply _everything_.

No one in his family would look him in the eye anymore. It didn't take a wizard with Hermione's brain to figure out why.

George tossed and turned in his bed, knowing sleep was definitely not happening. Last night, he'd ended up going down to the kitchen for a hot drink, hoping it would calm him enough to sleep. He hadn't been exactly surprised to see two of his siblings already down there.

It wasn't surprising either when neither of them would look at him. But Merlin, it still hurt.

Yeah, he looked like Fred - it wasn't as if it was his fault! He was his bloody _twin_, of course he was going to look like him. He was his twin, his brother, his best friend …

George felt the tears coming, so he gritted his teeth and ripped back the covers. Maybe he could find some potion that'd knock him out for several hours.

George could only feel resentment. He tried not to succumb to the pain, he tried not to _feel _- because he knew that if he did, he would never come back from it. He would never feel the same again. Currently, he didn't feel anything other than growing hate for everything he encountered. He simply survived through each day, one hour at a time. As much as he would've loved to just follow his twin, George knew his family needed him. So he allowed the resentment to overcome everything else.

It was much easier than feeling the pain.

He probably should've expected it, but it brought him up short when he stormed into the kitchen and found Hermione already sitting there. He didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing - on the one hand, he liked Hermione. She was nice, good to Harry and Ron, and smart too. She didn't pry. However on the other, she tried to help - she tried to help too much. She tried to fix everything, and he didn't think he could handle it if she tried to fix him.

The resentment made itself heard and he turned his back on her.

"Hello, George." Her voice said quietly as he made himself a cup of tea. He didn't really want it - he didn't feel the need to drink anything. He didn't really feel the need to do anything much, these days. But he needed to do _something_ to distract himself_,_ or the pain would make itself seen.

He gritted his teeth and managed to grunt out, "Hi." It took so much effort to just say that one word. He felt his anger grow for the girl sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

"Can't … can't sleep?" Hermione said, her voice sounding quieter and quieter.

"No."

Wasn't it obvious? You don't normally find people making tea at two o'clock in the morning! At this point he just wanted to be left alone. And that was what had happened. _Fred had left him alone_.

"… I had a nightmare," Hermione said, growing so quiet until she was barely audible. George found her voice irritating. He didn't want to hear it. Hear any of it. "Of … of the battle. Of … when …"

He _couldn't_ hear it.

"Right." Was all he said as he sat down, not even bothering to be interested in the cup of tea in front of him.

Hermione seemed stumped at his coldness, but not altogether surprised. The girl was too damn smart for her age. "George, I-" she began, but George cut her off before she could say anything else.

"I noticed you and Ron seemed to have worked things out." He said abruptly. Hermione blinked for a second before giving a timid smile.

"Yes … we have," She bit her lip, thinking. "We … understand each other now. He hasn't been sleeping and he's … well, showed me what he needs. Help," There was that defining factor of hers. "He needs help. And … well, I understand. It's all good now." She seemed like she wanted to continue, but George knew Hermione had stopped because she knew he wasn't listening. He really didn't care.

Her last words, however seemed to cause a little disbelief. They struck into his head harder than he expected - _it's all good now_. How could it _possibly_ be all good?

"All good, Hermione?" He said bitterly. "_How_ is it all good? Tell me that."

Hermione blanched. "Well – I mean to say – it's leaning towards the good-"

"Has Ron even _asked_ for this help of yours?" George said, hearing his voice grow louder. "He's a big boy, Hermione. He can help himself. He doesn't need you to babysit him all the time."

Shock covered Hermione's face. "I – he _needs_ help, George! And I can give him that, so why shouldn't I give it to him? I love him! I want to help him!"

"Yeah, but sometimes people don't want help!" George practically yelled, slamming his hot drink down on the table, causing half of it to spill over. Much like his temper was. "That's all you ever do, Hermione! You help and help and _help_, and you don't stop! You have good intentions I'm sure, but for Merlin's sake, sometimes we just want to be left alone! You can't help us all the time!"

"I can try!" Hermione yelled back, her eyes now glazed with tears.

"No, you can't!" George gripped his hair in frustration – just how Fred used to. "You _can't_ try, you _can't_ understand! This is a Weasley thing and you have no bloody clue as to how we're taking this. You think you can help us? So far, you've only made it worse, Hermione."

Tears were spilling down her face now, but George ignored them. Her eyes held sadness but she held her head strong as she said, "I am a Weasley. And I want to help."

For some reason, this angered George more than her insistence. "No, you're _not_, Hermione, no matter what Ron's told you. You're a Granger. And you'll never understand this like we do. Like I do."

"Then tell me, George," She said, her voice sounding defeated. "Help me understand."

"No." George didn't want this. He just wanted to shut his eyes and pretend none of it had ever happened. He resented all of it. Specially the pain that was threatening to spill over.

"George …" Hermione took a step around the table towards him. He dug the heel of his hands into his eyes. "You need to let people in."

"I said no." Her voice was cutting into him like a knife – venerable and weak. As if the words really had cut a hole in him, the pain came rushing on top of him. All the grief, bitterness, hurt and pure sadness threatened to spill out and George couldn't control it.

He wouldn't be able to handle it and he didn't want to.

"Let me help you …" Hermione's voice were barely words as her tears clogged her throat.

The broken voice caused the pain to come crashing down on him. All he could think was anger, pain, Fred, hurt, Fred, alone, Fred, grief, Fred …

And guilt for hiding away all the grief.

Sobs racked through his body, forcing him to sit back down. He hid his face, knowing Hermione would still be able to see everything. How stupid he was. How weak he was. What a terrible person he was.

And it was all her fault.

"Bloody Merlin, Hermione," He somehow managed to choke. "Why d'you … get away from me."

"I-I'm sorry …" She said. She even dared to place a hand on his shoulder, which he violently shook off.

"You caused this!" He suddenly yelled through the tears. He couldn't control himself and he was shaking, still with a hand in his hair. Hermione stood a few steps back from him, a hand over her mouth to obviously try and stifle her crying. "I was doing fine! Then you go and bloody ruin everything!" He shuddered trying to draw breath and felt his resentment grow when he found he couldn't properly. "Stop trying to help! Forget Ron, just get out!"

"W-what?" Her voice was higher-pitched than normal.

"I SAID GET OUT!" George roared, throwing a hand towards the kitchen door. But Hermione appeared to be unable to move. Her legs seemed to give out as she sunk to the floor, her hand still covering her mouth.

George could hardily move himself, but he managed to reach the door. "Fine," he said, finding more resentment towards how croaky his voice sounded when he was choking back tears. "I'll get out myself."

He heard her sobs finally break through as he reached the stairs and he felt only slightly guilty for screaming at her. But as the pain hit him with a crippling force, all the guilt he felt for Hermione left him. He only felt resentment.

She deserved it.

* * *

A/N: I feel for George very much. This was very intense to write. Next is Harry!

I thank you all for your reviews so far, you're all awesome. I hope you liked this one!

So reviews appreciated, until next time-

-Moon. : D


	5. Harry Feels Forgetful

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry, Hermione or hot drinks.

* * *

Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :RHr HG and others WeasleyFRIENDship postDH:

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5

_Harry Feels Forgetful_

He only wanted to forget. Just go downstairs, maybe make himself a drink of something and think about other things. Anything, so long as it distracted him.

He wasn't counting on finding Hermione sitting in a crumpled position against one of the kitchen table legs, sobbing and crying like he'd never heard her before.

She was a mess. Her hair was a tangled forest, her fingers buried in the locks as she rested her elbows against her knees. She didn't look up as he entered the room and tentatively sat down on the floor beside her. She didn't stop shuddering when he placed a hand on her shoulder. Though he wasn't sure if she could.

"Hermione?" He said gently. Again, she didn't respond and he placed an arm around her. "Hermione, what's wrong? Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

She gave a small shake of the head before turning and crying into his shoulder. Completely bewildered, Harry continued to hug her close until she stifled the sobs enough to speak.

"I'm sorry," She said thickly through her tears. "I'm being kind of pathetic right now. I should've known really … Oh Merlin, I've made it all worse …" She gave another sob.

"Oi," Harry said, lifting her head back up again. "What the hell has happened that's made you like this? Ron hasn't-?"

She cut him off with a head shake and saying, "No, no … Ron's fine … Ron's perfect, actually. It's _me_, I'm stupid, I'm an idiot, I'm …" Her tears cut her off and she clutched even tighter at Harry's shoulders. He was completely bewildered, but then he had seen stranger things. He continued to hold her.

"Hermione, what on earth has made you like this?" He asked after a few moments. Hermione shuddered, trying to calm herself before looking up.

"Oh, just … something silly. It doesn't matter."

"Hermione, that's a load of crap, and you know it," Harry said forcefully, turning her head to make her look at him. "What. Happened?"

She gulped before whispering, "George."

Harry didn't know what to say to this. They'd all watched helplessly as George retreated further and further into himself, while the rest of them neither had the guts to look at him long enough to talk, or had the guts to actually discuss what had happened to them all. Harry knew Hermione front and back and he figured she'd tried to make a move at helping in some way.

Which had obviously backfired.

"Elaborate?" Harry asked quietly, still letting Hermione sob all over him.

"Well, I buggered it up essentially," She answered, hiding her face again. "He hasn't been handling it well … we all know that. I tried to help … and I pushed him too far. Now he hates me, I'm an idiot to even _think_ I could make a difference and an even bigger one to think I could empathise. I'm not a Weasley, Harry."

Harry sighed. He had hoped he could simply forget all this over a cup of tea or something. Instead he stood and helped lift Hermione to her feet before steering her into a chair at the table.

"Hermione listen to me," He said, sitting next to her. "You're as much a Weasley as Ron is. The fact that you wanted to help in the first place proves what a wonderful and amazing person you are. One day, he'll appreciate you for this. We've all been through some almighty crap this past year or so and we're all suffering. Maybe not in the same way he is, but we're all on the same level, Hermione. You're hurting just as much as he is."

Hermione shook her head. "I … I don't think that's possible. You didn't see him, the _tears_ …" She held a hand to her face. "Harry, I'd never seen him like that before. I was honestly _scared_."

Again, Harry didn't know what to say, so he just put his arms around her and sat there with his best friend until her tears subsided.

Harry was sick of all the tears and the guilt. Voldemort was gone, the war was over; surely that was enough for peace? It seemed that they would _never_ be able to be truly happy and though Harry knew that the Battle of Hogwarts was inevitable, that _death_ was inevitable, he couldn't help but wonder if it all could've gone differently if he'd been that much smarter like Hermione, or that much more loyal like Ron. That maybe all those people – Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, Mad-Eye, Ted Tonks, Dumbledore, Sirius, his parents – wouldn't have died if he'd been a better leader.

A part of him knew that this was stupid to even think of, that he did more than what was expected of him during the entire war, but the rest of him – the part connected to his reoccurring nightmares – felt so guilty, he needed to put the blame on _someone_.

"He told me to forget about Ron." Came Hermione's voice, stunning him out of his intense thinking. Pulling back, he was startled to see her face was composed, blank. It scared him, for he only saw that face when she thought too much – and Hermione's famous rash decisions only ever followed too much thinking.

"Don't you dare listen to anything George told you," Harry said fiercely. "He's upset, and he's going to say anything to try and make himself feel better. Don't go doing anything you'll regret."

Hermione seemed to halt in mid-thought. "You know me too well, Harry."

Harry sighed. "I know you well enough to know that you'd leave Ron if you were messed up enough. And I can see George messed you up pretty badly."

Hermione didn't answer.

"Look Hermione," Harry said, leaning away to be able to stare right into her face, though leaving an arm around her shoulders. "I'm not sure of a lot of things right now, and there are millions of other things I'd much rather forget. But there's one thing I'll always remember about that day and that was the look on both your faces when you kissed each other during the battle. And I'm sure that it's always supposed to be 'RonandHermione'."

Again, Hermione didn't answer though this time, Harry knew she was admitting defeat. "I guess I'm an idiot for even considering it?" She asked.

"No," Harry answered. "It shows that you're strong and willing to do anything to help. But Ron needs you right now. Leaving him wouldn't help solve anything."

"I know it wouldn't," Hermione still seemed subdued. "But George … I've just made him so … I've made it so much more difficult for him. He told me I could never understand – that I'll never be a Weasley."

"Is that where you got that crazy idea from?" Harry sighed. "I know how you feel. Devastated, but guilty for feeling devastated. You know that Ron, Ginny and the others must be feeling worse than you, but there are times when you can't possibly believe that. That those times are, to put it bluntly, shit times."

Hermione nodded. "I've never had to handle this before. Not really. Ron hasn't slept in weeks and I know he's hurting, yet I never feel _happy_, even when it's just a moment between us. Sure, I'll feel _better_ … but not happy."

"We didn't grow up with him," Harry said. "We'll never understand completely …"

"Still hurts like a bitch, though."

Harry nodded, ignoring Hermione's unusual use of the swear word. He had too much to be upset about – Remus and Tonks, only just married and with a baby son, before their lives were ripped away. Little Colin Creevy, always kind of annoying, but had been strong and determined during the old D.A. meetings. Mad-Eye, capable of anything and yet still struck down by a simple curse. His poor owl, Hedwig, if only he'd let her out of her cage …

Harry wished he could forget everything. To be able to lie down and dream of nothing but normal dreams. To perhaps pretend that Fed hadn't died and that he and George were busy spraying whipped cream in Ron's hair as he slept. Pretending that Mad-Eye was guarding the Burrow outside right that moment, limping through the grass, refusing to let his guard down, just because the war happened to be over. Pretending that Hedwig was out hunting and she would soon fly in with a dead frog for him. Or even pretening that Colin was busy developing photos of the battle, hoping to gain an appreciation for his work, or even that Harry Potter would like them.

The constant pretending Harry knew would get to him eventually, but for that moment, pretending was good. He didn't have to think. He could forget.

"I miss him." Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded.

Just then footsteps sounded from the stairs, causing Harry and Hermione to both jump and pull wands from no where within seconds. Realising someone was only coming downstairs, they hastily stowed them away in time to see George's currently red face immerge from behind the doorframe to the kitchen.

Hermione's breath had appeared to have died away. Harry didn't want to see the breakdown he was sure was coming.

But to his intense surprise, George walked over to Hermione, pulled her to her feet and hugged her tightly in one quick motion. Hermione seemed equally amazed, but she eventually hugged him back. It wasn't until George pulled away that Harry recognised his reasoning for this action,

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." He said quietly.

"That's all right." Hermione answered. Catching Harry's eye, she gave him a small smile.

Maybe we could help each other after all, Harry thought. Maybe … he didn't want to forget just yet.

* * *

A/N: I love Harry and Hermione's frienship. It's not written about often enough in the fanfiction world. Here, George gets a small reconciliation with Hermione. I hope you liked it!

Your reviews have been fantastic, thank you so much!

Reviews appreciated, until next time-

-Moon. : D


	6. Percy Feels Alone

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Percy, George, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny or hot drinks.

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Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :Includes RHr HG and others WeasleyFRIENDship postDH:

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6

_Percy Feels Alone _

He had his Mum and Dad, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, George, Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione, and even Hermes, Errol (though he wasn't sure how much longer he might have _him_), and Arnold. Even though the night was full of their noises – Hermes flying through his window with _whooshes_ and Arnold squeaking about the house – Percy still felt incredibly alone.

It wasn't as if it was a bad thing. In fact, he revelled in the isolation. People meant pretending to be ok, smiling and accepting pities and 'I'm sorry's from people who probably didn't even care much. He hated having to pretend when 'ok' was a million miles from what he was feeling.

Being alone was easier.

Try as he might, he couldn't get to sleep. Percy had always had trouble sleeping – as a child, he would constantly sneak into his parents' room, claiming he wasn't sleepy and whether he could stay with them. He'd been given potions and countless cups of warm milk and still he found sleep impossible.

It always became worse when he was stressed, but now, it wasn't even worth trying. Sighing, he got up and headed towards the stairs. Gone were the days where he could simply run to his parents and everything would be all right. Nothing would be all right anymore.

However, reaching the kitchen Percy stopped short at the sight at the kitchen table. George and Hermione were sitting next to each other, both with an arm around each other. The last time Percy had bothered to pay attention, George had been furious at Hermione for some reason and no one except Harry seemed to know why. Harry himself was sat opposite them, Ginny perched in his lap. No wonder Percy hadn't heard any screaming that night.

Ron was there also, sat on Hermione's other side. He still looked stressed, but the dark circles were gone from his eyes and he was smiling. His hand tightly clutching Hermione's however, gave away his need for comfort.

Percy found himself hating this jolly gathering of friends in the middle of the night. Since when did Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny even _look_ at George, let alone talk to him? He found he felt irritated; no one thought to invite Percy? Sure, this probably wasn't scheduled for 2:36 in the morning, but …

It made him feel more alone.

"Monday will be four months since the Battle," Harry was saying quietly. "I can't … time's actually gone really fast," He tightened his grip around Percy's youngest sibling. "I don't want you guys to leave."

_Leave_? Percy stood, hidden in the shadows of the lounge, listening. He'd completely lost track of the time – had it really been four months?

"You can visit us whenever you want," Hermione said firmly. She looked at Ron. "You can never come often enough."

"In that case, I'll be there every day." Ron answered. George rolled his eyes.

"Are you serious about going back to Hogwarts?" He asked the girl next to him. She nodded.

"I need my NEWTs," She said. "It might not be so important to _you_ two," She nodded at Harry and Ron. "But to me … I've been working towards it since I first started there. I really _have_ to go back."

Percy was shocked. It was time for Hogwarts already? Had he really been so far gone that he hadn't noticed the intense protection Ron had adopted around Hermione, now realising that it was because she was going to be going with Ginny back to Hogwarts? He couldn't believe that he'd missed all this! Ever since the war ended, he hadn't bothered keep up with the world. It was as if the world was carrying on without him, anyway.

"I think it's good you're going back," Ginny answered. "I won't be all alone. Half the girl's in my dormitory were Muggle-Born and I have no idea what happened to them."

"I have a feeling half of Hogwarts will be gone," Harry said. "It'll probably be years before it's somewhat back to normal."

Percy had to assume that Hogwarts still wasn't completely fixed, as he didn't have a clue himself. All these things he'd missed out on, simply because he couldn't be bothered trying! He felt so irritated with himself, that his younger siblings were acting more mature than him. _He_ was meant to be taking care of _them. _

Everyone agreed with Harry's statement and they were silent for a while. Percy considered speaking up, but he still felt ashamed at how he'd refused to even be a part of this up until now – a part of the family. Ron summoned the teapot over and started pouring them drinks each. Percy was just about to turn around and stalk back off to bed, when he heard his name,

"Did Percy come out of his room, yesterday?" Harry asked. "I was at Andromeda and Teddy's. Any progress?"

None of them answered for a moment, then Hermione said, "No … he … well, he's still refusing to come out. I'm afraid that when he snaps out of it, Ginny and I will already be gone."

They all seemed to agree with this and Percy had to force back tears. They all worried about him. In trying to help himself by forcing himself alone, he'd been making everyone else feel worse.

"He has to say goodbye," George said, seriously. "I'll punch him one if he doesn't."

"As appealing as that sounds, I don't think punching him is the best option," Ron answered. He sighed, leaning his head on Hermione's shoulder. "Let's face it; he wasn't even here the past two years. He didn't want anything to do with us! For all he knew, _all_ of us could've been dead …"

"Hey," Hermione said. "I thought you'd forgiven him?"

"Hermione, we all have," Ginny answered for Ron. "But the fact remains that he still didn't come home, even when it had been proven that he was wrong the entire time. I still hate him a little for that."

"I'm sick of fighting and arguing," Harry muttered, hiding his face in Ginny's neck. "That fight you all had about a week after the war ended … the one where Charlie hexed him and you, Ginny threw a pot of potatoes on his head?" All of them nodded. Percy remembered the occasion only too well. "That was bloody uncomfortable. I don't want anything like that to happen again."

"I still find it hypocritical of him to be crying over Fred now, when two years ago he couldn't give a rat's arse." Ron muttered.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, nudging his head off her shoulder so she could turn and send him one of her withering stares. "Don't say that! Percy has every right to mourn Fred as much as the rest of us."

Ron only had to take one look at her face before sighing, "You're right, I'm being unreasonable."

"Hermione's always right," Ginny pointed out as Hermione smiled at him. "And that's why she's got you wrapped around her finger."

"She does not!" Ron insisted, pulling his hand away from her's in order to fold his arms. Hermione only snickered at this and reached up a hand to turn Ron's face towards her.

"Ron, I'm a bit cold, sitting down here at quarter to three in the morning …"

Ron sighed. Percy watched half with bemusement, half with a sort of happiness as his youngest brother summoned a stray Weasley jumper for her. He'd always known that the two were made for each other, but he hadn't noticed that they'd actually done something about it.

"Should we perhaps talk to Percy?" Harry asked after a moment.

George shook his head. "I know my brother, mate. He was always one to suffer in silence. The only way he'll get help is if he asks for it."

"Oh, Percy …" Ginny muttered and Harry hugged her tightly.

Percy couldn't keep standing there, listening to his siblings as they grew more concerned about him. He hadn't realised the constant worry he'd caused – one of the many, many things he hadn't noticed, it seemed. Up until that point, Percy had simply felt isolated and alone; now he found the strong connection he used to have with his siblings was still there.

He wasn't sure if he wanted help. But he knew that he needed it.

"I'm sorry," He said suddenly, startling himself. Five faces snapped up to face the kitchen door and even a few wands were drawn. Percy let himself be seen and they lowered, but each person's face at the kitchen table was still wary. He could understand why. "I know I've been a crap brother to you all. I thought by leaving you all alone, it would be better. I guess I only made things worse. I'm sorry for that and I want to make it better. Will you let me?"

For a long moment, they didn't answer and Percy feared they would simply shut him out, much like he'd done to himself. But then George got up from the table, walked around it and crushed him in a fierce hug.

"Of course we will," He said. "We need every brother we've got."

"And sister's." Ginny added, exchanging a smile with Hermione.

In George's warm hug, Percy didn't feel quite so alone.

* * *

A/N: I'm so sorry this is out late. I've just had a lot of real life catching up with me. My last week of school - _for_ _forever_ - is soon and i'm more or less spazing out. But i _did_ manage to write this, because Percy deserves it! I hope you enjoyed it.

Reviews are always appreciated, seriously you are all amazing. Until next time -

-Moon. : D


	7. Molly and Arthur Feel Ashamed, yet Proud

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Molly, Arthur, or hot drinks.

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Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :Includes RHr HG and others WeasleyFRIENDship postDH:

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7

_Molly and Arthur Feel Ashamed, yet Proud _

When Arthur woke up and his wife wasn't next to him, he panicked.

Well, panic was a bit of an understatement. He practically took the door off it's hinges in his haste to reach the stairs. Pulling out his wand simultaneously to crashing through the kitchen door, his heart finally stopped pounding when he saw Molly sitting at the kitchen table, drinking an obviously recently made coffee.

"Oh dear Lord – I'm sorry, Molly," Arthur panted, collapsing next to her. "You were just gone … I don't think I've ever run faster in my life …"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Molly fretted, forgetting about her drink. "I didn't think, I should have written you a note or something! Of course things are going to be a little … But I'm safe."

"Yes, thank Merlin." Arthur agreed, quietly as he placed his arms tightly around his wife. Molly clutched at him just as fiercely, until Arthur realised that her shakes weren't from the fact that she had scared him, but from the fact that she was sobbing.

"Oh, Mollywobbles," Arthur whispered into her hair. "It'll get easier. I don't know how exactly, but I know it will."

"Our _son_, Arthur," Molly choked back, refusing to look up. "He _died_, our little Freddie _died_, and you're saying that'll get easier?"

"Look at Harry," Arthur said, taking Molly's chin and forcing her to meet his eyes. "He's 17, or well 18 soon enough. He's been through more than we could ever imagine. He's had his parents taken away from him, Sirius, Albus, Mad-Eye, all his parental figures in life taken away. Yet he's still somehow managed to come through all right. He somehow managed to save the world. If Harry can do that without guidence, then we can simply survive."

Molly gave a shudder before sighing and flopping her head onto Arthur's shoulder. "Harry's a strong boy," She agreed. "Or rather man, now. Goodness, he, Ron and Hermione have grown up so much. Remember when Ron would talk with that high squeaky voice all through his Third Year? I had to take Hermione bra shopping with Ginny and _you_ had to teach poor Harry how to shave."

"They certainly have grown," Arthur agreed. "Harry accidently cut his neck on his first try. I thought he was going to bleed to death."

"Oh, don't mention that."

"Sorry," Arthur winced. "But those two are like our own children in a way. Harry's had no one who truly cares for him. And Hermione does have some wonderful parents of her own, but they simply don't know enough about the Wizarding World. I'd be happy to teach them of course, but ever since the incident with the rubber ducks, I'm afraid they've gone a bit off me …"

Molly managed a snigger. "You're so strong, Arthur. Where would I be without you?"

Arthur smiled at her, but he couldn't say anything. His throat had gone tight. He didn't want Molly thinking of him as _strong_, not when he could barely function during most parts of the day. She thought of him as a rock, unmoveable, unbreakable, and_ strong_; he was breaking on the inside, slowly, piece by piece.

He didn't know what to do. And he felt ashamed to admit it.

"We failed him, didn't we?" Molly said after a few moments of silence. She lifted her head from his shoulder to look straight at him. "Fred. We've completely failed him. He's dead because we didn't protect him."

"This isn't our fault-" Arthur cut himself off. He couldn't pretend anymore. Of course it was their fault, _his_ fault. Fred was his _son_ and he should've been looking after him. The little voice in his head told him reasonably that he had seven children, plus Harry, Hermione and Fleur to look out for as well, his own life to protect and that Fred knew what he was getting into. That death was inevitable.

He told the little voice to shut up.

He felt tears spill over and he buried his face into Molly's shoulder. He shook with the sobs he'd been holding in for months and he knew that he must be terrifying Molly, but he couldn't seem to stop. Everything poured out through his tears – Fred, the wall he should've prevented from falling, the broken twin he'd left behind, the hurt, the tears, the grave that shouldn't be there, the _everything_.

It took a long while to control the tears. By the time he could look up, he realised that Molly had been crying too.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have cried all over you." Arthur said thickly, summoning a tissue box over for them both.

"Nonsense, it's one of my jobs," Molly said stubbornly, reaching out for a tissue. "When I became your wife, I promised to look after you. That includes the tears and minor dribbling."

"I didn't dribble-?"

"No, I was referencing to the boys and Ginny." Molly gave a small smile. As Arthur blew his nose, Molly sighed. "We really do have amazing children."

"Didn't we established that many years ago?" Arthur asked, giving a small smile. "And we were only talking about how much Harry, Ron and Hermione have grown a few moments ago."

"Yes, well," Molly returned Arthur's small smile. "I have to tell you … though I couldn't be more ashamed at what I allowed to happen to Fred … I'm still very proud of the others. For handling it so well."

Arthur didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Years of being with Molly had allowed him to know when they were thinking the same thing.

* * *

A/N: I love Molly and Arthur together. I think their relationship is beautiful - they need each other equally. I hope you all enjoyed this.

This is the second to last chapter, the next is the epilogue of sorts.

Again, thank you for reviewing, you're all amazing!

Until next time -

-Moon. : D


	8. Everyone Feels Nearly Ok

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own any of the Weasley's or any hot drinks.

* * *

Hot Drinks at the Kitchen Table.

Blurb …

Various Weasley's meet for a hot drink in the middle of the night, following the first few months after the war. :Includes RHr HG and others WeasleyFRIENDship postDH:

* * *

---

8

_Everyone Feels Nearly Ok _

The night was still, waves of heat swimming through the windows. The inhabitants in The Burrow however, seemed immune to the warmth. The muggles would never know, but Mr Weasley had insured there were freezing charms over every inch of the place before they went to sleep.

For the first time in months, every single person was asleep with peaceful dreams. Bill and Fleur were happily curled up together in his old room. They had finally talked to Mr and Mrs Weasley about moving back to Shell Cottage. It was their last night at the Burrow.

Neither had felt guilty.

Charlie had crashed earlier that night on the couch in the lounge. Molly had placed a blanket over him hours ago and now he slept soundly, his face lit from the glowing embers of the fire. He was going to stay with Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage for a few days.

The pain was easing.

Percy was alone in his room, but he knew his parents were only down the hall. Hermes was also there, rustling his feathers, giving him comfort enough to fall asleep. He didn't isolate himself anymore – and for the first time in weeks, he looked George in the eye, smiled at Ginny and reached out to Bill.

He wanted to be a part of the family again.

Other than the slightest twitch, George's face was completely calm. He lay on the side of his bed, in danger of falling off due to the fact that he'd fallen asleep watching a photo of Fred lying on the floor. He was sleeping in his own room, the empty bed opposite him no longer reminding him of the resentment he felt for everyone. It reminded him of Fred's laugh as they stayed up whispering until ungodly hours in the morning. George had found a new bond in Hermione and though he still hated her for bringing out his grief, he found her easy to talk to.

He was growing to like her.

Hermione herself had gone to bed in Ginny's room. But Mrs Weasley was going to get a shock in the morning if she found her where she was now, lying comfortably in Ron's arms. Ron was lying spread-eagled across his bed, his dreams no longer plagued by nightmares. Hermione helped that.

He could sleep.

Meanwhile, Harry had snuck into Ginny's room. Harry still didn't like to remember, but having Ginny by his side made it easier. And in return, Harry kept the nightmares at bay.

She no longer screamed.

The Weasley's all slept soundly, each mentally recharging for the next day without Fred. But that night, for the first time since the war ended, no one was awake with a hot drink at the kitchen table.

-Fin.

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A/N: So this is done. Horribly depressing unfotunately, but the poor Weasley's got a happy ending in the end. I've enjoyed writing this and i hope you all enjoyed reading it.

Thank you all for your reviews! They're greatly appreciated.

Until next time-

-Moon. : D


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